3 paragraph writing prompts - tumblr
by skyfallat221b
Summary: This is where I'll store all my 3 paragraph prompts that I received on tumblr. It's gonna be a multifandom thing, so unable to list them all. Sorry! (James Bond, Bourne Legacy, Inception, Game of Thrones, etc.)
1. Inception - ArthurEames - Art Thieves

**Prompt as follows : ****Eames and Arthur as art thieves pls? (idk if it's AU, in my personal headcanon at least Eames was art thieve once before coming into dreaming business but still it isn't in a movie so)  
****by ohmystarsy on tumblr :)****  
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Arthur hadn't exactly been alright with having to steal from the Fabre museum in Montpellier. But, Eames had told him that, since they were in Provence, they might as well get that job done: it was a good pay. That being said, though, Arthur still wasn't sure. Eames was the thief, not him specifically. He was good at stealing secrets from the mind, ideas and other information like that, but real physical things? And, besides, apparently this "Portrait of Baudelaire" by Gustave Courbet was in on the black market because of some bet, and it would be easy to snatch it out from the museum.

It's not like Arthur didn't know a lot about art, but in the thieving business, Eames was the con-artist. He knew how to recognize a forging, and he knew where to get forgings. But, he also knew how to analyze the security systems, and get information from the clerks at the entrance of the museum. Arthur went along because Eames needed a distraction, and it would look odd if the two of them listened intently at one person speaking: so Eames had chosen to smooch the clerk in an almost perfect French, while Arthur had to approach one of the curators and hope that he knew enough English to explain what Arthur needed to know. Why Eames had asked him to ask in English, Arthur would never know, because Arthur spoke French, maybe even a better French than Eames, but since this was Eames' plan, he wasn't going to argue.

It took Eames approximately thirty seconds to get the information out of the ladies' mind (no wonder Cobb had wanted him on his team so bad, back on the Saito job). Arthur admired the way Eames eased into roles when it came to a job. But still. Arthur still didn't think it was a good idea to heist that painting out, but that night, as he stood guard at the front of the museum, he counted the minutes it took Eames to disengage the security, get the painting out of the frame, roll it steadily together, and come out as if nothing had happened. It took about 26 minutes and 32 seconds. Well. Eames was a perfect forger and a perfect thief. It made him wonder how he trusted him the way he did, but he didn't mind. After all, he would trust Eames with his life if it came down to it, and he was sure Eames would do the same if it came down to it.

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**And, if you have any of your own prompts, feel free to drop an ask on my tumblr (same url as here), I have the Anon option open (16/03/2014) :)**


	2. James BondMarta Shearing - ASOIAF AU

I decided to do the 3 paragraph challenge ask box meme on tumblr, so I thought I'd publish everything in one same fic :) Fandoms are a bit mixed, though :)

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**Prompt as follows : Dr. Marta Shearing/James Bond : Game of Thrones AU ;)**  
**by vablantsky on tumblr :)**

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The daughter of Lord Shearing hadn't been the usual girl, from birth, as she had had shown great handskill and knowledge of roots and plants from a very young age. Afraid of having a witch within their household, her family banned her and, after spending a few years on the roads as a common whore, she found her faith in R'hllor, and got accepted as a Red Priest, mastering the fire and her element of truth.

It wasn't until she was a bloomed woman that she met a member of the Night's Watch off the shore of Skagos, who seemed strangely familiar. He went by the name James, and had been in the Night's Watch almost all his life, after his brother had suffered from a childhood disease, and his father had given him the choice : take the black or be executed for bringing on the plague in their household by upsetting the Seven.

They both knew that one was forged in fire and the other was forged in ice, but when she had to use her powers to heal James from a burning cold, and told him that she saw his brother in the flames - a shining Knight as King's Landing, Archer of the Court, jousting for the King - he couldn't help himself but gratify her by offering any and all hospitality the Watch could offer, until she would agree to descend upon King's Landing with a message to James' brother, urging him to come North, up to the Wall, before the cold in James' heart killed him. For the Lady Shearing had but pushed the shards of cold away, the bite of the White Walkers had taken its toll on Bond, and it would soon be his time to be burnt at the stake to stop him from rising blue eyed and ice-cold…

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**Tsk :)**


	3. HanselGretel Clintasha - Picnic AU

**Prompt as follows : ack you're a really good writer. um, not really original, but hansel and clint barton (both as played by jeremy renner) talking on a camping trip? maybe with natasha romanoff and gretel?****  
****prompted by ****omarysueo **on tumblr :)

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"So, you're saying you're my ancestors?" Clint can't help but feel a little bit weird. Not only did a carbon copy of himself bump into his life, but said carbon copy had brought along his sister, and now, for some reason, they were all sitting around one of those plastic tables you can fold together and take with you. It's not like him and Natasha had wanted to get away from New York and SHIELD for a while, and then something like this goes and happens. He just shakes his head, as he tries to understand what this guy - Hansel, apparently - has just told him. Natasha sits next to him and shares an amused look with the sister, Gretel. "Yeah, we are. It's a long story, though," Hansel starts, and Clint hides his face behind his hands and whines. He doesn't want to have anything to do with magic right now, but the fact that apparently Hansel and Gretel were, a) real; b) his ancestors; c) still alive, is a little bit too much to take in at first glance. Natasha looks like she hasn't really taken any side on the matter yet. But, then again, her and Gretel have the same vibe, so Clint doesn't think it's weird that Natasha hasn't said anything yet that might disturb him. "Basically, Gretel here's a white witch, I'm her brother, we have white witch blood in us, so we can't die unless we're beheaded or burnt on the pyre. Which, thankfully, still hasn't happened."

Clint raises an eyebrow from behind his hands and sighs very loudly. "But this is too weird, man," he explains, as he lowers his hands and taps them on the plastic table, making the tupperwares and the thermos shake gently. "I feel like I'm looking into a mirror that's not repeating what I'm doing," he states, and Natasha giggles. "Don't, Clint, Hansel here is nothing like you. You put way too much hair gel in your hair," she adds, and Gretel smiles. Well, apparently the witch hunters have adapted well into modern society because the don't react to anything around them. Clint rubs his eyes with one hand, as he tries to understand. "But, I still don't get why you've found me now. What am I supposed to do? Help you out kill a witch?" he asks, and Hansel leans forward, gently, smiling at him. "No, you're supposed to help us catch a God."

"NO!" Natasha giggles when Clint slams his hand onto the table, and points at Hansel. "I'm NOT gonna go hunt a God, because one already messed with my head way too much, and besides, he's way too far away to be messed with anyways." There's a little moment of silence, as the three others watch Clint carefully, and then Hansel breaks his pokerface and begins laughing out loud, soon followed by Gretel who covers her mouth. Even Natasha has to bite her lower lip not to laugh too visibly at him. "Oh my god, you should've seen your face, Clint. It was brilliant," Hansel exclaims, before grabbing his beer and handing it to the archer. "We're just poking at you to make sure you're a descendant, that's all. Don't worry."


	4. Clintasha - HP - Clint is a Werewolf

Prompt as follows : If that **3 paragraphs thing is still up, write something for your latest Clintasha gifset with Clint as a werewolf! please!**

**prompted by anonymous on tumblr :)**

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When she woke up, Natasha didn't know where she was. She couldn't remember. Her first thought went to Clint. They had been together when the other wizards had ambushed them. Her hand closed on thin air as she opened her eyes, trying to get to her wand, but being unable to, as she was bound with rope. Old, plain, boring Muggle rope. She kicked slightly, but felt uneasy. Her eyes fell on the cage in front of her. There was a body lying down in there, but she didn't recognize it. She heard some footsteps, as she tried to master her surroundings. "Where's Clint?" she asked. She tried to turn around, but she'd been paralyzed by a curse. She could still remember the effects of the Cruciatus curse, and she could remember Clint's scream. Clint never screamed. Ever. What had they done to him? Then, a shadow moved from the window to her right, and she saw a full moon, clouded by mist, clear as a torch. A cackle behind her made her shiver. The light fell on the cage, and the body stirred. "Tell me that's not him in the cage," she tried. When the face of Bellatrix Lestrange appeared before her, all of her instincts kicked in. She felt her heart turn to ice at the sight of the witch. "What did you do to him?" she asked, and Bellatrix smiled.

"Oh, we had a bit of fun with him," she stated, smiling wryly, as Clint stirred in the cage. The moonlight shining upon him made him sweat, Natasha could see it. She saw him struggle, keeping as quiet as he could, fighting the infliction. Bellatrix smiled, and giggled as Natasha tried to get out of the rope. Stupid rope. Natasha discerned Clint's body, as it twitched and broke, and the sound of the bones breaking - she wondered how he hadn't screamed already. And then, she saw the body expand, and she heard Bellatrix laugh at her, mocking her, as she moved towards the exit. Natasha bit her lower lip as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I swear to you, I will kill you for this," she stated, focused on the cage in front of her. Bellatrix giggled. "Sure you will, if he doesn't kill you first!" she answered, in a sing-song voice before disappearing, leaving the red-headed Auror to her fate as Clint - no, as the wolf - broke out of the cage. She watched the three Death Eaters who still hadn't moved or disappeared, and jumped to her feet, breaking out of the chair like her Muggle training had taught her to do. At the same time, the wolf broke the metal bars from their wooden holders, and howled at the moon, a sound that Natasha knew only too well from her childhood, bringing her back to the time where the Red Room would taunt her with a werewolf bite if she failed a mission. What they'd done to Clint was unforgivable. And she was going to kill them all.

It took her a couple of seconds to break free from the rope, and as she commandeered one of the Death Eater's wands, she stunned them both - she would kill them later if Clint didn't do it himself. She stretched herself up, and when she realized it was too quiet to be safe, she slowly, very slowly, turned around, to see that her partner was staring at her with blue white eyes, slowly measuring her up to attack her. She could recognize Clint's body proportions in the wolf, and his fur was the same color as his hair but… She felt frozen with fear. It reminded her of what Loki, that wizard from the North had told her. '_Not until I make him kill you! Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear! And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his skull!_' Maybe these Death Eaters had something to do with him. She took a deep breath, and then another, hoping the wolf wouldn't notice her. But his calculating eyes were watching her every movement. Until one of the stunned Death Eaters moved, as the curse dissolved, and within the blink of an eye, the wolf was on him. Natasha didn't take too long to cast an "Accio wand!" followed by an "Accio Clint's wand!" to secure both of them. And, when the wolf rose from the bloody body beneath it, she felt her heart break at the blood on his lips and teeth. "I'm sorry, Clint," she whispered, as she disapparated, leaving the wolf alone on the premises.


	5. Titan AE - Johnlock

**Prompt as follows : ****Titan AE - Johnlock  
****prompted by anonymous on tumblr :)**

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The first thing that goes through Sherlock's mind when he hears of the Titan project is that it would be an amazing thing to use to recreate a planet that would be able to host all the surviving humans. What he doesn't understand is the visible discrimination other alien species have against them, as they are all equally evolved (or so he thinks).

It only hits him when John comes home from a repair job on one of the Io's satellites and tells him about the rumors going around of destroying said Titan. Of course, Sherlock simply shrugs, acting like he didn't care about it and acting like Mycroft hadn't asked him to help locate the device. But, John soon lets Sherlock in on a little secret: Cale has been through here, and he was wearing a strange ring. Unlike the wedding rings both him and Sherlock wore, he said it had a more personal attachment, but refused to say why. John had overheard some arguments between a crew and some other people.

Sherlock waved the argument away, but left John with no notice, as he called Mycroft to tell him that Cale had been sighted. His elder brother, one of the ruling members of the surviving human race thanked him, and told him to try and get John to forget all about it. That, of course, would be more difficult, as John had been quite intent on figuring out who this Cale was. Maybe a cognitive recalibration would be in order, just like when Sherlock had to disappear and asked Molly to get John to lock his m


	6. Clintasha - Youngsters

Prompt as follo**ws : "If you are still doing the 3 paragraphs thing could you do one of Clint and Natasha meeting as kids on one of her early missions. Btw I love your blog it's the best.**

**prompted by anonymous on tumblr :)**

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The first time he saw her, she was just a kid. It wasn't face to face per see, as he was just watching some security footage of her. He'd been with SHIELD for about 9 months now, but Coulson trusted him enough to show him this classified material. He was barely 23 at the time, and what he was seeing made him both angry and, even if he'd never admit it to anybody, a little scared. Because this little girl, 14 years old according to the files, was doing everything just as if she'd been programmed to do it and it pissed him off. Her name was Natasha Romanoff, and she was one of the youngest members of the Red Room. Coulson had just asked him if he'd feel alright with taking her down, but Clint had denied: he was an assassin, for grown ups. Not kids. Not girls like her who had to appreciate the joys of being a teen, not act like they were trained hound dogs. What he agreed to do, however, was try and meet her, to see if he could sense anything different about her. Coulson was sure that nothing would or could go wrong. And if Clint detected malice or an unchangeable will to kill and destroy, then he might consider killing the 14-year old.

The first time she saw him, she was just a kid. She'd just been to Stockholm on an initiative mission, which had included her getting arrested by the police force, and spending a night in prison - from which she'd had to smuggle out some confiscated drugs and break one of the police officers' hand (or any other member). She was sitting in the cell, looking down at the ground, focused on everything around her, when she heard the footsteps, followed by some Swedish arguing. Looking up, she saw him, standing out in his black leather jacket, his typically American sunglasses, and his denim jeans. He'd stopped up and was watching her, as he, apparently, ignored the police officers who were calling him names. "Leave us," he then said, in Swedish to them, as he bent forward, resting his arms on the metal bars of the cell. She didn't flinch, but her eyes remained fixed on him, like a caged animal waiting for the stick to beat her. For some reason though, she didn't feel threatened by him the same way she did by the people in the Red Room.

"I'm not here to hurt you, 'Tasha," he said, in a Russian with a slight accent. He'd learnt it during his last months with SHIELD and still had to perfect it. Languages had never been his strong suit. She didn't move. She didn't even blink. "I'm just here to talk with you, and if you don't want to talk to me, I'll just talk at you. Is that alright? You can nod if you understand me." He watched her, and she watched him. There was something different about this twenty something American guy, something that felt safe. This is why she nodded. But she didn't speak. "I hear you broke one of the officers' hand? And that you tried to get into the confiscated goods section of the station after you broke his hand." She gazed at him. He didn't sound judgmental at all. She breathed calmly, trying to remember her training. "Well, I know why you're doing this, and I'm gonna help you out. But you have to promise me that you won't say anything about me to those who train you, and that you'll forget about me. Am I clear?" he asked, and she nodded again, prompted by his gaze. Bending back, he unlocked the door with the keys he'd pick-pocketed from one of the officers, and opened it wide for her to walk out. "There. Do whatever you're supposed to do, 'Tasha. I'm sure we'll meet again sometime," he stated, as smiled at her, before walking back up the corridor, to distract the officers while she fled and finished her job. Clint could hear Coulson in his ear, whining about what Clint had done, but the archer didn't care. Natasha didn't seem like something evil. At all.


End file.
